


throwing canaries at your friends is not a sign of affection

by Misprinting (misprinting)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, HP: EWE, staff!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-22
Updated: 2011-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:24:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misprinting/pseuds/Misprinting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Yule Ball, again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	throwing canaries at your friends is not a sign of affection

“Remember our Yule Ball?” Harry asks. He and Ron are sitting at the staff table this time around, but just as awkwardly as they’d been nine years ago.

“Oh Merlin, Harry! No.” Ron tells him, reaching for his glass of Firewhiskey. “No reminiscing. You promised.”

Harry shrugs, watching Hermione and Neville, dancing tipsily and bumping into the Head Girl and her girlfriend, nearly sending all four of them to the floor. “It wasn’t that bad.” He mutters. Ron looks at him out of the corner of his eye.

“It was.” He says, then looks back at Hermione. “No Krum this time, though. There’s that.”

Harry snorts. “Ron.” He says, seriously. “I promise you: Hermione’s always had more chance of losing you to Krum than you have of losing her.” Ron flushes and hides behind his glass.

“Honestly don’t know why we’re friends.” Ron tells him. Harry shrugs with one shoulder.

“Probably something to do with killing a pretty famous dark wizard together.” He says, then slants a smirk at Ron. “Actually, no. I think it was something to do with a corned beef sandwich and some chocolate frogs.”

Ron laughs and quickly shuts himself up, schooling his face into a serious expression and saying, levelly, “Food is a far greater basis for friendship than vanquishing evil.”

Harry smiles and looks back out at the dance floor. “Dumbledore would’ve loved that.”

Ron’s grinning; Harry sees it out of the corner of his eye. “Brilliant.” He says. “The man always will be my hero.” He nudges Harry. “Hey, I reckon I could be the next Dumbledore, you know! He was ginger, too.”

“I don’t think that’s the deciding factor.” Harry tells him, patting his shoulder in consolation.

“Just you wait.” Ron tells him. “I’m even a fu- a bloody teacher now. I’ll grow the flipping beard in a few years. I'll swear to now. I'll swear it on Dumbledore's great, bushy beard.”

Harry looks at him and looks, and then laughs, folding his arms on the table and dropping his head into them. “Oh, Merlin!” He says. “That’s a beautiful- a beautiful thought, Ron. And I can’t wait to see Hermione’s face.”

Ron’s face falls. “Ah.” He says. Harry grins.

“Don’t worry.” He says, patting Ron’s arm. “I won’t let her properly maim you. I’ve got your back.”

“Considering you killed the fucking Dark Lord,” Ron says, faintly. “That’s really not as comforting as you might think.”


End file.
